


5 Times Dean and Seamus Snuck Into Each Other’s Beds (+1 Time They Didn’t)

by bookwyrrm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, is that a tag? just wholesome snuggling in this here fic folks, plot without porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 19:30:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwyrrm/pseuds/bookwyrrm
Summary: What it says on the tin.





	5 Times Dean and Seamus Snuck Into Each Other’s Beds (+1 Time They Didn’t)

1\. First Year

Dean was too excited to sleep. He and his new roommates — one of whom was apparently famous — had spent most of the night getting to know each other. But now the moon shone in through the window and, one by one, the breathing of the other boys had deepened as they drifted off. 

Dean sighed, rolling over in hopes that his mind would let him rest before the first day tomorrow. But as he began thinking again about learning _magic _and pet rats and toads, a voice caught his attention. 

“Psst. Hey, you still awake?” The voice said. 

Dean sat up, and found Seamus Finnigan watching him from the bed next to his. 

Dean whispered, “Yeah.” 

Apparently taking that as an invitation, Seamus climbed out of his own bed and plopped down on Dean’s. He was a small boy, short and round, and he grinned at Dean underneath a freckled nose. 

“I can’t sleep either. Too busy thinking about tomorrow, and I’m not used to being away from home.” Seamus said, his Irish lilt pleasant to Dean’s ears. 

“Same here,” Dean agreed. 

They began talking again, trying to keep their voices low. Dean began to worry out loud about how they would find their classes, whether it would be hard to learn magic, whether they had to take calculus, but Seamus’ Dumbledore impression made Dean laugh so hard that Ron Weasley almost woke up. They smothered their laughter with the pillows. 

“Got any siblings?” Seamus asked once they had calmed down. 

Dean made a face. “Yeah, three. Younger than me, and all girls. It’s awful.” 

“I wish I had a brother or sister,” Seamus said. “My da was around for a bit when I was younger, but it’s mostly just been me and my mam.” 

“Really?” Dean said. 

Seamus stuck out his chin. “Got a problem with it?” 

“No!” Dean said hastily. “It’s just, uh, my dad’s gone too.” 

Seamus blinked. “Oh.” 

“Yeah. He left just after I was born.” 

“But I thought you had sisters?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got a stepdad. And my sisters— half-sisters, technically.” 

“That’s cool,” Seamus said. “Do you remember your birth dad?” 

Usually people got awkward when Dean told them his father had left, but Seamus didn’t seem fazed. His blunt honesty was different, Dean thought, but not in a bad way. No, not bad at all. 

“Nope. Do you?” 

Seamus shrugged. “A little. But I was so young when he left that I wasn’t too sad about it.”

“Yeah, same.” 

They smiled at each other. 

The new friends talked late into the night, until Seamus was yawning hugely with every other word and Dean could barely keep his eyes open. 

The morning light warmed Dean’s face and he realized with a start that today was his first official day at Hogwarts. Then his eyes truly opened, and he realized that he must have fallen asleep sometime last night when he and Seamus were talking. 

The rest of the dormitory were in various stages of the morning. Neville was sitting nervously on his bed and looked as though he had been dressed for hour. Harry Potter was brushing his teeth, still in his pajamas, and Seamus was pulling on a shirt. Ron was still asleep. 

Dean yawned hugely. 

“Not you too?” Neville said, sounding somewhat dismayed. “Seamus has been doing that all morning.” 

Seamus caught Dean’s eye and grinned at him. Dean smiled back. 

2\. Second Year

“It’s attacking Muggleborns,” someone said. 

“Anyone one of us could be next,” someone else said. 

“Do you think it’s Potter? Remember how he turned that snake on that other boy?” A group of students whispered together. “Looks pretty suspicious. I certainly wouldn’t want to cross him.” “Merlin’s beard, can you imagine sleeping next to _the Heir of Slytherin?_” 

Seamus looked worriedly up at Dean, who tightened his jaw but said nothing. 

“You okay?” Seamus asked, hurrying to keep up with his long-legged friend. 

“I’m fine. C’mon, we have to get to Charms.” 

Later that night, Seamus was woken by the dorm room door swinging closed. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and peered out of the curtains surrounding his bed. 

Sure enough, Ron and Harry’s beds were empty. 

“Dean?” Seamus whispered. “Neville?” 

“I think they went on an adventure,” Neville said blearily. “Wish they would do it without waking the rest of us up, though.” 

“Probably off to Petrify someone else,” Dean muttered, so quietly that Seamus almost missed it. 

Frowning, Seamus walked over to Dean’s bed as Neville rolled over to go back to sleep. He knocked lightly on the bedpost. 

Dean looked up at him. “It’s open.” 

Seamus clambered onto Dean’s bed and they sat facing each other cross-legged. 

“Do you really think it’s Harry?” Seamus asked. 

Dean sighed and looked away. “Probably not. Doesn’t change the fact that someone’s out to get me just ‘cause of my blood status.” 

“Yeah, that sucks.” Seamus pushed at Dean’s legs. “Here, shift over. If anyone wants to get you, they’ll have to go through me.” 

Dean laughed but didn’t complain as Seamus lay down beside him. He drew the covers up over them and murmured, “You think you could fight off the Heir of Slytherin?” 

“Sure,” Seamus said. “Remember when I punched Zabini in the jaw last month?” 

“That was pretty impressive,” Dean admitted. “Wait— you wouldn’t even use magic?” 

“Don’t need to. Just my fists. He wouldn’t even see it coming.” 

Seamus felt Dean yawn and kept describing how he would defeat the Heir of Slytherin in a fistfight, lowering his voice more and more until Dean’s breathing evened out. 

3\. Third Year 

Ron’s scream caused his roommates to bolt up. 

“What’s going on?” Dean said. 

“Sirius Black!” Ron yelled. “With a knife!” And the room erupted into chaos. 

Once McGonagall had left, things eventually quieted down. Neville was gone, dragged away by the irate teacher for leaving a list of passwords out for Black to find. Harry and Ron fell back asleep, or lay on their beds trying to relax enough to rest. 

The room was oddly quiet. Dean tossed and turned, trying to figure out what was keeping him from sleep. 

Dean heard the bedcovers shift as Seamus turned over and sighed, and he realized that his friend was still awake. Usually Seamus slept like a rock, and he had the ability to doze off anywhere.

Carefully, so as not to disturb the others, Dean climbed out of bed and padded his way over to Seamus’. 

“Hey,” he whispered. “You still up?” 

A quiet “Yeah,” came from the bed, and Seamus drew back the curtains for Dean to climb up. 

Seamus sat up, moving over to give Dean room. Dean settled back against the headboard and wrapped his arm around Seamus. He could feel frantic energy coursing through Seamus’ body. 

“What’s the matter?” 

“Sirius Black was just in our room!” Seamus whispered. “You don’t think that’s wild?” 

Dean shrugged. “Who is this guy again? I know he killed some people—”

“Not just some people, Dean! Hundreds! He’s a mass murderer! And he was inches from us!” 

Dean frowned, trying to make out Seamus’ face in the dark. “Are you excited about this?” 

“No, of course not! Well, it is kinda cool… but we could’ve died! Black could’ve killed all of us in five minutes and no one would know until they found our bodies in the morning, bloody and gory—.” 

“Seamus.” 

“Sorry.” Seamus leaned against Dean’s shoulder. “Anyway, now I can’t sleep. My mind is going haywire.”

They sat like that for a few minutes until Dean said, “Want to go prank Sir Cadogan?”

Seamus sat up and grinned. “Do you even have to ask?” 

The pair crept back into the dorm ten minutes later as the portrait yelled obscenities after them. They fell back onto Seamus’ bed, trying to hold in their laughter so as not to wake up their roommates. 

“Feel better?” Dean asked. 

He saw Seamus smile at him. “Yeah. Thanks, Dean.” 

Dean elbowed him lightly in the side in response. 

“Hey,” Seamus said, his voice quieter. “Um, do you want to stay here tonight?” 

The moon shone in through the windows and played upon Seamus’ fine hair, casting odd shadows on his face. Seamus wasn’t looking at Dean, instead fastidiously studying the covers beneath them. His fingers picked nervously at a piece of lint. 

It wasn’t often that he sounded vulnerable, wasn’t often that his usual cheer and energy was replaced with uncertainty. Dean felt oddly pleased that he was one of the few people Seamus trusted to see him like this. 

“Yeah,” Dean said. 

They lay down side by side. Seamus was still small enough that two of them could fit easily on the bed built for one person, although Dean wondered how they would fit in the years to come. 

Seamus’ breathing deepened, and he began to snore. Dean felt his eyes start to close and found that he, too, could finally fall asleep. 

4. Sixth Year 

“Dean, we put you up in the spare bedroom down the hall.” 

“Oh, I don’t want to inconvenience you,” Dean said. “I brought my sleeping bag, so I could stay on the floor in Seamus’ room.” 

Mrs. Finnigan clicked her tongue cheerfully. “Nonsense, it’s no trouble. Besides, you boys are too old now to share a room.” 

However excited Seamus had been for Dean’s visit, his mother was ten times more so. Mrs. Finnigan had been cooking and cleaning with a frenzy Seamus had only seen before during Holy Week. 

The last time Dean’s family had went to the Netherlands, he had had an unfortunate allergic reaction to some bad bitterballen, which he had detailed in a wounded tone in his letters to Seamus and for which he had clearly not forgiven the country. Rather than accompany his family back to the place of the insult, he had chosen to stay with the Finnigans.

On the first day of his visit, Dean was too tired from the journey to do much other than eat dinner and fall asleep. On the second night, however, Seamus waited anxiously until his mother had fallen asleep and her snoring could be heard from down the hall. Soon afterwards, the door creaked open and Dean slipped in. 

“I brought snacks.” 

Seamus grinned and reached for the bag eagerly as Dean climbed up on the bed beside him. 

“Can you believe we’re going into sixth year?” Dean asked, settling back against the wall. 

“S’crazy,” Seamus agreed, opening the popcorn. “Here, try to catch this in your mouth.” 

Dean obliged and the piece hit his chin. “That was your fault, that was a bad throw. C’mon, try again.” 

Seamus did. Eventually they were able to get a piece in Dean’s mouth, although both were laughing so hard that it must have been sheer luck. Dean reached out for a high five, which Seamus gave. 

Seamus said, “There’s a piece of popcorn stuck in your hair. No, don’t eat— that’s gross, Dean.”

“You’re gross.” 

Seamus stuck his tongue out. 

They lapsed into silence for a little while. Seamus looked over and caught Dean looking at him. “What?” 

“Nothing. Just thinking.” 

Seamus said, “Thinking about what?” 

“Nothing. Everything… I don’t know.” Dean sighed. “You-Know-Who, I guess. He’s back, and now everyone knows. People are starting to go crazy.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Seamus said. 

Dean continued on as if he hadn’t heard him. “I put protection spells over my house, over some other houses in the neighborhood. At least, I tried to. I don’t even know if they’ll work. I’m wondering if I should just leave. If they come looking for me, if it gets that bad, I don’t want my family to get hurt because of me.”

“Dean.” Seamus grabbed his friend by the arm and shook him gently. “Hey, Dean, look at me.” 

Dean did. The expression on his face was that of a drowning man who had just been pulled out of the water. 

Seamus didn’t know what to say to that, so he gave Dean a hug. “It’s gonna be alright. I promise.” 

“All this crazy shit,” Dean said softly into Seamus’ shoulder. “And still life goes on like nothing is happening. Kids go to school, adults go to work, people fall in love.” 

He had turned his head so that his lips were brushing Seamus’ neck as he spoke. Seamus could feel the vibrations in his voice box as Dean spoke. He sighed. 

They shifted closer to each other. Dean’s warm hands traveled up Seamus’ back and came to rest at the nape of his neck, where they stroke the short, bristly hairs there. Seamus felt like there was a balloon in his lungs. 

Dean drew back, and they stared at each other. Seamus felt his stomach flip. He was close enough to see every detail of Dean’s dark, beautiful eyes. They looked like tiny galaxies. Seamus held his breath. 

“I’m dating Ginny Weasley.” Dean blurted out. He looked mortified. 

Well, crap. If there had been a balloon in Seamus’ chest, the words _Ginny Weasley _had popped it. Now it was deflating slowly with a pathetic hissing sound. _Dean isn’t in love with you, he’s in love with Ginny Weasley. Stupid, Seamus, stupid! _

“Cool, man. Good for you.” Seamus’ voice sounded all wrong even to his ears — strained and too loud. He moved back, away from Dean. 

“Are you okay?” Dean’s eyes searched his. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.” 

Stupid, good-hearted Dean. 

“It’s fine,” Seamus mumbled. He didn’t want to see the pity in Dean’s eyes and stared at the floor. “I’m just tired. I’m gonna go to bed. See you tomorrow.” 

“Oh… okay. Goodnight.” 

Once Dean had left, Seamus stared up at his ceiling. Tomorrow, he would be fine. He would ask Dean about Ginny and tease him in the easy way that friends did. Tomorrow, he would have forgotten about this horrible feeling in his gut. And if it was still there, well, tough luck. Seamus wasn’t going to let it ruin their summer. 

5\. Seventh Year 

The Great Hall was filled with noise as the soldiers found their families and friends, hugging and eating and drinking. They had won, and now they would celebrate. 

The Patil twins were sitting in one corner of the room crying, arms wrapped around each other. To Dean’s left the Weasleys waved Ron over to them, to his right a young couple was kissing frantically. 

Dean didn’t see Seamus. He looked around again, dread growing in his stomach. 

A burly man moved aside, revealing a thatch of blond hair standing behind him — _there. _

Dean was barely aware that he was moving, pushing through the crowd. Seamus looked up as he approached, and Dean hugged him with all the force in his body. 

He heard Seamus grunt as Dean lifted him off the ground, then his arms were around Dean, hugging him back. 

They released each other and Dean grabbed Seamus’ face, looking him over for injuries. 

“I’m fine,” Seamus said softly. “I promise.” 

“I couldn’t find you,” Dean forced out. “I thought—”

“I know.” 

Dean leaned his forehead against Seamus’ and closed his eyes. With the adrenaline of the battle gone, Dean suddenly realized how drained and exhausted he felt. 

Seamus was watching him. He said, “Want to get out of here?” 

There was something in Seamus’ eyes that made Dean’s fingertips tingle. He nodded. 

They made their way up to the dorm, not speaking much. On an impulse, Dean reached over and took hold of Seamus’ hand. Seamus squeezed his hand tight.

Harry was already in the room, lying on his bed and munching happily on a sandwich. He waved at them as they came in, and the other two waved back, all too tired to start a conversation. 

With Harry there, it was awkward. Dean and Seamus stood in between their two beds, unsure of what to do. 

Neville walked in, carrying the sword of Gryffindor and looking similarly drained. He set the sword down on his nightstand, climbed into his bed, and pulled the curtains shut. 

Seamus motioned Dean over, who sat on the bed and watched as Seamus cast a _Muffliato _spell so the rest of the room wouldn’t hear them talking. 

Seamus had grown up, Dean thought. And it wasn’t just the longer hair or the gauntness of his face or the bruising — (it was lucky for the Carrow twins that they were dead or Dean would have gone out and hunted them to the ends of the earth for what they had done to his boy) — no, Seamus looked more sure of himself. Yes, he also looked exhausted, but he carried himself a little more firmly and stood a little taller. 

“I can’t believe it’s over,” Seamus said. 

Dean only nodded. 

Seamus sat down crosslegged on his old bed, facing Dean. 

“I heard Hermione say they’re going to try to get a Hogwarts program for some of our year who want to complete their education. Would you want to do that?” Dean’s unspoken question hung in the air: do you want me to do that too? 

But Seamus made a face. “Definitely not. It’s kind of sad, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at this place the same way. This year was like hell. Of course, I don’t have to tell _you _that.”

Dean reached out and wove fingers together. “Do you know what you want to do, then?” 

“This might sound crazy,” Seamus said, “but I really want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to for a while now. And after that… well, honestly, I could go for a nap. What do you think?” 

Dean’s whole self felt warm, and he realized that he was smiling. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds alright.” 

+1. Nineteen Years Later 

Dean woke up sweating. The war was right behind his eyelids, the flashing lights and screams invading his sleep and making his heart race. 

He got up quietly and made his way into his studio, where the canvasses from his current project hung around the walls. 

The Ministry had commissioned Dean to contribute to a day of celebration and remembrance on the anniversary of the war. The celebration was half a year away, but Dean had already started working. He was pretty sure that Hermione Granger had pulled some strings to push him to the top of a list filled with other talented artists, and he didn’t want to let her down. 

Dean walked around the room, gazing at his drawings. Some were still only sketches, some were closer to completed, some with only a few hints of color here and there to remind him how to fill it in later. All of the paintings were unmoving, in the Muggle style.

It must have been this project that inspired the nightmares. His dead friends filled the room - not broken and crumpled as they had died, but vibrant and glorious. Alive. 

There was Cedric, flying high on a broom, wind-rumpled and beaming. There were Lupin and Tonks, bending over a baby’s cradle. There was Lavender, smiling wide, her hair teased up and stiff with hairspray. There was Dumbledore, who twinkled up at the viewer over a book. 

Dean sighed, wondering if the nightmares would allow him to sleep or if he should stay up. It wouldn’t be so bad to start painting now. The colors for Fred Weasley’s painting had been giving him trouble, and it would be nice to get them locked down before morning. 

Strong arms wrapped around his waist, and Seamus rested his chin on Dean’s shoulder. “Bad dreams?” 

“Yeah.” Dean leaned into the solid warmth of Seamus behind him. “Not sure whether I should try to get more work done now or start again tomorrow.” 

Seamus laughed softly. “You’re falling asleep where you stand. Come on, leave it be for now, old man.” 

“I should—”

“It’ll still be there in the morning.” Seamus raised himself up to kiss Dean’s cheek softly. “Come to bed.” 

So Dean did. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am on tumblr under the username bookwyrrm. Come say hi!


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